


Closer to You

by msculper



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, I love yous, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6012190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msculper/pseuds/msculper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Valentine's Day!</p><p>Wherein Caleb distracts Ben from important work.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Closer to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charliedontsurf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliedontsurf/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Wherein Caleb distracts Ben from important work.

The espionage cabin wasn't the same without Sackett and the soft, constant sound of his breathless utterances to himself, but Ben had learned to work with only the lowing creaks of the wood panels. His quill scratched across the page, leaving dark curls in its wake as he transcribed from the coded message slowly being revealed by the reagent. Ben's new found purpose after Washington's trust and praise drove him through countless intelligence reports. He barely even felt the cramping in a hand not used so excessively since late night study sessions at Yale. Covering the sound of the door opening and creaking shut, a whistled tune pulled Ben out of his writing crouch over the table and into his typical soldier's posture. While he unsurprisingly didn't recognize the shanty, he immediately identified the whistler. "Someone's in a good mood."

"'Course I am, Tallboy, new stock of rum's in." Ben's best friend slapped a hand on Ben's shoulder, but thankfully not the writing arm he still had poised over the official report. Caleb tossed three new letters on the pile next to Ben, intentionally messing up whatever system Ben had going. Two stone cold eyes glared up at him without a word. Eyes that could never stay mad for long. "Looks like I'm not the only one needin' a pint." Ben sighed, brushing off Caleb's hand and turning to face the courier. Caleb knocked over a random barrel and flopped back onto it, blush at the incredulous reaction it elicited. 

"Caleb, I doubt that was rum." 

"You weren't there to smell it, Benny, it was definitely the good stuff." Ben was cracking that lopsided smile of his. "At least better that what we're used to."

"That what took you so long? It's already Monday afternoon." Ben half turned back to his work. _At least_ , he added mentally as he set down his quill to apply reagent to another message from Abe, realizing he hadn't the slightest idea how long he'd been at work.

"D'you know how long it takes to track down a moving army, you ungrateful shite?" Ah yes, at least Caleb didn't call their new camp a 'hell hole' this time. "And how close all the places Georgie picks are to the Devil 'imself?" Ben picked up his quill again, furiously copying down new intelligence from York City. He made himself slow down when he had to double check he hadn't lapsed into Hebrew, again. As endearing as Caleb's colorful remarks were, Major Tallmadge had work to do. "Not to mention nearly gettin' shot to death by fusiliers."

"You _what_?" Ben nearly cracked his neck looking back to Caleb, who leaned precariously against a specially engineered telescope with his hands behind his head.

"Well, you see, I was ridin' through the New Jersey forest when I see a flash of red through the trees. Now I high tailed it after that 'cause I had Woody's letters on me to deliver and I knew you'd be mighty heartbroken if those lobsterbacks hurt one hair on this pretty little head..."

"Caleb." (It was meant as both an invitation to wrap up the story and a question on Caleb's line of reasoning.)

"But those British bastards sped up too, nearly shot the horse out from under me. Thank God, or providence, I had a piston on me..."

" _Caleb_."

"I took out three of 'em and used my hatchet to get of the horses that came up right next to me. The blood git didn't know what hit 'im! Then I hatched another one's leg off an'..."

"Caleb, I love you, but please shut up." That's not how he'd meant to say it, over his shoulder and slightly exasperated. That's not how he'd meant to tell Caleb he loved him. After all these years, surely he must _know_ : after looks exchanged under the pier, after secret post-Christmas meet-ups to swap gifts, after silent nights sharing a bed during Yale visits, after picnics behind the old schoolhouse. The quiet overwhelmed Ben. He stood, slipping his jacket from his shoulders in a sudden rush of July heat and heading for the door.

"Ben," his real name and a tender touch on the elbow, "you mean it?" Those deep brown eyes, damn them.

"Yeah Caleb, I do." Ben ran his hand across his neck under his queue. "I-" Why was this so much harder to say _actually_ looking at him? "I love you."

The grin across his best friend's face was enough of a response as the whaler closed the space between them, but he went on, snaking an arm around Ben's waist. "I love you, too." Ben's jacket fell from his arm onto the dust-coated floor as Caleb laced the fingers of his other hand into Ben's hair. "'Bout damn time you said it, Tallboy," Caleb mumbled against Ben's lips before finally, _finally_ kissing him. Yeah, those reports weren't getting finished any time soon.


End file.
